Two Tasks
by Aria E. Seymour
Summary: This is a story about Mary Watson's offer to assassin another time. She doesn't follow through, but she gets blamed for it anyway. Please enjoy.


Seven, long, endless months, Mary and John Watson have been married. Well, really only about four of those seven were endless battles of hate; hence the whole 'I was an assassin thing' was taking place. For the most part beside that SMALL event, they were pretty happy. Excited, the Watson's were painting the baby's room a combination of colors. A name for the baby, still undecided. Accidentally, Mary flung paint in her bleach blonde hair. Of course, her real hair color was not blonde; her real hair was brunette. John giggled at her and she flung paint on his pants. The final straw had happened. It was time for a war of paint! Flying and soaring, the paint was all over. Splat! Splat! Within ten minutes, the entire room was loaded pact with colors. John and Mary were doused in light pink, plum purple, and neon green. Blotches of paint landed on the walls. Oddly, the room looked perfect! It looked like a young Watson's room. It was an abstracted mess that somehow looked gorgeous.

"Hey, Mary, look at the walls! They look magnificent!" John exclaimed.

"Oh my. They do! I think we should leave it don't you?" Mary agreed.

So that was that. Then John wrapped his arm around Mrs. Watson. Quickly, she turned facing him. Confused, John thought she was pushing him away. In reality, she turned to give him a satisfying smooch. Darting off, Mary strolled into the kitchen to cook some chicken. After she placed it in the oven, her cell phone jiggled (it was on vibrate if you were wondering). Mary picked up her phone.

"Hello?" Mary answered the phone.

"Ello! Hi there Amanda, A.G.R.A, Mary or whatever you are calling yourself now."

"Who is this?" Mary replied.

"Your old boss, Anne Wine. You know what I always say, 'once an assassin always an assassin," the lady started.

"How did you find me?"

"Amanda, I'm the head of assassins. I can find anyone I want. Anyway, we have a job for you if you are willing to take it," the lady suggested.

"That is over. I want none of this assassin junk anymore," Mary insisted.

"But it requires getting revenge on your husband's ex-girlfriend and your old enemy."

"Fine I'm listening."

"Well, Magnussen had a girlfriend named Sarah Sawyer. Now, yes she dated John, but after they broke up, she jumped over to Magnussen. I don't know why, but she did. We need Sarah dead. If you want, the job it is yours," Anne offered.

"May I think about it first?"

"You have forty-eight hours to decide."

On that terrible note, Mary set off for a walk. The cold mid February air refreshed Mary's mind. Every breath she breathed filled the air with a small white cloud. Pondering, Mary thought of the pros and cons of this risky job. Revenge is always a popular choice. For some reason, 'forgive and forget' rarely is chosen. Mary assassinating Sarah could ruin John and Mary's relationship. If he ever found out she was the one who assassinated Sarah, he might not forgive her. Her barely forgave her last time. If she did assassin her, she could get revenge on Magnussen. And who knows, maybe Sarah hates Mary. Sarah might be able to get some phone numbers on how to eliminate Mary (only if Sarah was jealous of her enough). Mary could kill her future murderer. Plus, Mary is carrying a child. A little baby girl who is the product of the cutest lovers was an extremely difficult decision for Mary.

After much analyzing, Mary knew what she was going to do. It was final. No going back. Mary Watson was never going to ever ever ever assassinate anyone again for as long as she lived.

Swinging open the door, Mary turned the knob. Slipping off her coat, she hung it on the rack. It was time to finish cooking dinner. John was in the baby's room cleaning up the paint buckets and the brushes and all the other painting supplies.

"Dinner, sweetheart," Mary called from the kitchen.

Starving, John rushed in. Steamy, the chicken had water vapour flowing above it. Beans, peas, and rice accompanied the chicken. They sat down for dinner and enjoyed a nice home cooked meal. When they finished clearing the table, Mary excused herself back outside to call up and decline the offer. Disappointed, her boss accepted her decision. Mary returned inside to start cleaning the dishes.

A few days later, John and Mary were in the kitchen. The sun was shining. It was quite odd for London.

"Good morning, love," John wished.

"It's very sunny today," Mary pointed out.

Mary smiled and kissed him on the cheek softly. In the background the TV reported that Sarah Sawyer had been murdered.

"Turn up the screen, Mary."

Obeyingly, Mary turned up the volume. The rest of the report discussed hoopla and this and that about Sarah. The police speculated that her dating the celebrity, Charles Augustus Magnussen might have something to do with her unneeded murder. Curiously, John wanted to know what happened to his past lover. Calling in fake sick, John dialed his work. Mary still went of course. The two drove separate directions. John was zooming his way to Baker Street.

When John arrived at Sherlock's, Mrs. Hudson greeted him. Skipping steps, John entered Sherlock's flat.

"So have you heard about Sarah?" John asked.

"Yes. It was a murderer. It was obviously to get revenge on Magnussen. It could be Lady Smallwood or one of his many countless victims," Sherlock cracked.

For a few moments John sat in his chair pondering. Something crossed his mind. He thought of someone who hated Magnussen and had a reason to Sarah. The person in mind could easily pull this off and not get caught.

"Oh my god!" John squealed.

"What is it?"

"Mary. Do you think Mary Watson did this?" John worried.

Sherlock had no answer. He had his hands compressed together meditating as he always does. Swooshing on his coat, John flew out of the building. Nervously, he hailed a taxi. Waiting, for a few hours John paced at home. When Mary walked through the door, John was confronted her.

"Mary, promise me that you didn't kill Sarah Sawyer. It all adds up why you would do it."

Mary froze for a moment.

"John I didn't do it!" Mary fought, "I know that I _was_ an assassin, but I will **never** to do an assassin ever."

Not sure to believe her, John just waltzed away. Mary had a disappointed expression on her face. Angered, Mary reached to call Anne and ask who the bloody hell killed Sarah.

"Who killed Sarah? I want to know now. My husband is blaming me for this mess," demanded Mary.

"Roger Adeline did, Amanda. Settle down. You should be glad we got her out of the way for you," replied Anne Wine.

"Listen, first of all, Sarah was no problem at all in my relationship with John. Secondly, you had my ex-husband murder my current husband's ex-girlfriend? Why?" Mary yelled.

Peeping behind the corner was John listening to every word she spoke.

Roger Adeline was Mary Watson's first husband who was a cheater and a liar. It was when she was very young and wasn't as strong and experienced as she is now. She was only married for two months. The love of her life, so she thought, was more like the worst thing that ever happened to her. Since it was on her A.G.R.A flash drive, she never told John about him.

"So, Mary," John breathed.

"Wha-oh my god… you heard everything I said didn't you?" Mary feared.

"Yeah. Ex-husband? So first you have a secret ex-husband, then your ex kills my ex, yeah?" John said strictly.

"It was on my flash drive and I didn't tell you be-"

"Was there anything else didn't tell me?" John yelled storming off.

Mary smashed her hands against her eyes and forehead. Resting her elbows, she leaned over onto the counter. Whispering to herself, Mary wondered why she never told him everything. Hopefully, John understood that if she had told him, she it would break him and she would have lost him forever and she did not want that to happen. Her worst nightmare was coming true. Losing her husband would just destroy her. She's been destroyed enough as it is.

Mary's big eyes, were filled with hurting sorrow. The pain trickled down her face and landed on her shirt. Her nose started running along with her make up.

Crash! Mary jumped a few inches terrified of the noise. Her heart skipped a beat.

"John what the bloody hell did you do?" Mary whisked. There was no answer.

"John? John? John!" Mary shrieked. Grabbing a knife out of the dishwasher, Mary slowly approached John and Mary's bed room. She opened the door. No John was to be found. A yellow sheet of paper lay on John's pillow. Mary set down the knife on the dresser and read the note.

"I've got John and he's gone". Of course Mary assumed it was Moriarty and immediately dialed Sherlock. Practically there in a minute, Sherlock arrived. He snatched the note and read it.

"No, it's not Moriarty. He would not use yellow paper. It was written by a liar: a compulsive cheat. Obviously by the paper is, he's cheap and careless. He has no time to waste," Sherlock speculated.

"Sounds like Roger," Mary chuckled.

"Who's Roger?" Sherlock snorted.

"Oh my-Roger. Roger Adeline? Could it be him?" Mary gasped.

She darted into the kitchen and picked up the phone.

"Anne, you better not have Dr. John Watson scheduled to be murdered."

"No, no."

"You better not because my husband was just kidnapped.

"Amanda, you must have been out of the assassin scene to long. Did you forget, we don't kidnap we just get the job done and quick," Anne scoffed.

Mary slammed down the phone in frustration. Sherlock was already gone.

"Sherlock? Sh-Sherlock? Where did he go?" Mary wondered.

Mary had no idea where to start searching for John. Patiently, she waited at her house for something. Within a few minutes, Mary received a text message. It was from Roger.

"If you want him back, meet me at Elmood's Bakery."

Grappling her bag and coat, Mary scrammed out the door. Picking at his nail, Roger Adeline was standing by a table. With her assassin face on, Mary marched into the restaurant. An evil look gleamed in Rogers eyes. A demanding look sparkled in Mary's eye. No matter what it took, Mary was going to get John back. Courageously, Mary sat down with Roger.

"Mary, first you must commit a sin against your husband that I know it will kill you," Roger started.

"Are you telling me I have to-"

"Yes. You must 'hanky-panky' with me one last time," Roger finished.

"I-I don't know if I-" Mary stopped.

She started tearing up. Not only would doing this hurt John it would hurt herself. Plus, she was pregnant and it would be so uncomfortable. This man was so mean to her. There was not one day where Roger was faithful to the vulnerable A.G.R.A..

"Secondly, you will be forced to shoot Molly Hooper."

"Molly? What? Why?"

"Because that woman chose Tom over me," Roger complained.

"Wait, you asked out Molly? How do you know her?"

Not answering, Roger just scoffed.

"Report to me in less forty-eight hours. You better have Molly dead and something sexy on."

Her fragile heart sunk to her stomach. Squinting her eyebrows together, Mary left Elmwood's Bakery. That night she fell asleep crying: like she has many times.

In the night, Mary slipped on her old black ski mask and gloves. She found a black maternity shirt and pants. Her heart felt like Magnussen had stabbed it and threw it against the wall. Her gun was loaded and ready. Nervously, Mary approached Molly's house. Climbing the fire escape Mary hopped into Molly's window. Closing her eyes tight, Mary blew off the gun. Mary started balling at had to dart home. For the rest of the night and all day Mary could not stop crying.

Heartbroken Sherlock just sat at home on his couch starring. The news of Molly's death shocked him.

Now Mary had completed one task, she still had to complete the next task. She found something in her closet to wear. Filling ill, Mary took an advil. Then she headed to meet up with Roger.

"So I heard on the news about Molly's death. Good job, mate," Roger chuckled.

"Now lets go to my hotel room and finish your promise, shall we?"

With a gulp and prayer, Mary nodded yes. Dragging her, Roger took her to the _Graverson Hotel_.Pounding intensely, Mary's heart was shaking. She felt so light headed. Hesitantly, Mary took a daring step into room 208. Shoving her, he pushed her on the bed. His trembling hands started unbuttoning her blouse. Increased,she breathed hard, faster, stronger. Roger's twisted fingers started messing with Mrs. Watson's hair.

BANG! A loud noise came from the closet. Quiet murmurs were heard. Roger quick turned to see what the noise was. That gave Mary enough time to whip out her gun.

BANG! Another bang shot. Literally shot. Mary murdered her former lover in the head. She called the police and the ambulance, and of course Sherlock. Kicking down the door, Mary realized that John was in the closet.

"Mary! Oh my god. I was suffocating in this bloody thing," John huffed.

"I'm glad you're okay. I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to you," Mary apologized.

"It's okay. I'm just extremely thirsty and hungry. Please, find me food, love," John chuckled.

After the night was over, and John had a full belly, they practically flew home. As they walked through the door, John kissed Mary. One thing led to another and before ya know it, they were rolling around in bed.

The End.


End file.
